


Chosen

by Portia MacBeth (twistedchick)



Series: Sonnets From the Jedi [6]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Other, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedchick/pseuds/Portia%20MacBeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The voice from behind the mask speaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chosen

Qui-Gon, long-dead, found me; Obi-wan trained me   
in the Jedi way, his life as my guide.   
Palpatine observed me, took me aside   
to promote as his own. I did not see   
he'd taken me over. Jedi forgive   
no fall from the Force's light; I was dead   
to them the instant my saber hit Mace   
Windu. Without a sanctuary, lost   
to all I knew, I had to pay the cost   
of knowledge with pain. Behind a metal face   
tears fell unseen. Mask instead of head,  
metal for limbs, nothing soft or alive  
but twisted hard scars. Since then I have fought   
for empire, not republic; let none live   
who did not call me master as I named   
the Emperor my lord. Then came a boy   
fighting like Obi-Wan, Force-bright, a joy   
in my long night. I wanted him Dark-claimed.   
I saw my Padme's grace within his eyes   
and called him to me but he fought and fell  
alone. A sister, too? That Alderaan child?  
Let them resist a time, learn all the lies  
before I find them and take what they tell  
to turn back on them. The Force is not mild  
in me; it rages in sinew and bone  
where the fire still burns. Yet he returned, he  
gazed at me without fear, ready to die  
to turn me back. His Force tastes of stone  
and sun, desert winds -- how is it that he  
makes me want the touch of air on skin?  
The Emperor chose to kill him; I struck  
first, carried my ancient master to win  
death. Let him die, let it all die, the Sith,  
the Dark, the long grief. But Luke -- oh, my son --  
saw me, knew me, loved me, gave back to me   
myself. Anakin chooses to die free.


End file.
